


Game of Survival

by pretzel_logic



Category: Star Wars Legends: Jango Fett Open Seasons (Comics), Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Good Parent Jango Fett, I tag as I go - check back every update, Jango Fett Lives, Jango Fett has Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28195686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretzel_logic/pseuds/pretzel_logic
Summary: Jango Fett was just a simple man trying to make his way in the universe. Simple did not mean foolish.
Relationships: Boba Fett & Jango Fett
Comments: 15
Kudos: 115





	1. Prologue

There was something wrong with his jetpack: the start-up was too slow and the Jedi was approaching too fast. He got into the air just as the purple saber cut through his blaster.

It wasn't enough and the purple blade burned through his durasteel plates and armor weave. Jango couldn't contain his scream of pain at the wound and thanked the stars it was only a graze.

That was supposed to be his neck... He was almost in two pieces like Myles had been when he was cut down years ago.

Jango crashed into the arena wall and stayed where he fell. He didn't think he could get up under his own power even if he wanted. But that was good wasn't it? Jedi had codes against killing enemies they could afford to spare. If the damage from the gut wound didn't kill him, he might survive this fight.

Though Tyranus probably wouldn't let him survive Republic custody. He knew too much.

He thought he heard Boba screaming for him, but there was too much noise for him to tell for certain. Even as the arena quieted, Jango was in too much pain to focus on anything else but his next breath and staying conscious.

Jango couldn't tell if he was succeeding, he felt like he was losing time. Then suddenly there's a familiar figure in white armor by his side. A familiar voice, almost identical to his own tried to ask him something, but Jango couldn't understand him. Then there were more people, more familiar figures working together to get him onto a stretcher and the fresh wave of pain at the movement was too much.

Jango fell into the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stayed tuned for first chapter to follow. as soon as I wrestle the html weird coding from gdocs into submission for ao3.


	2. One

The second Jango woke up in medical he demanded to know where his son was. He told Boba to stay out of the fighting, to not trust Dooku or any of his sycophants. He even told Boba it was better that he steal a Geonosian ship than attempt to escape - if necessary - with the Slave 1. Jango wouldn't put it past Dooku to rig it to explode while he was busy playing Head of Security.

"Which one?" The medic, one Jango suspected was Jedi, asked. The Pantoran was giving him a less than impressed look.

Jango wasn't in the best shape or moods. It was no excuse for sloppiness but his rage and bitterness got the better of him. "The one I could claim!" He yelled, practically growling.

Against his better judgment, he tried to sit up only to curse at the spike of pain in his abdomen and collapsed back down. He tried to move a hand to apply pressure to the wound only to find his range limited.

As quickly as his rage came, it went at the startling realization they had cuffed him to the medical bed. Jango closed his eyes and fought back the bile in his throat. This was Galidraan all over again, in all the worst ways.

"Please," Jango said, not daring to open his eyes in case seeing himself chained caused him to panic. Better to beg than to be so openly weak. "Did you find Boba? Is he alright?"

"I don't know, but I'll ask around. Stay put. I don’t think I need to tell you after that little display that getting up is unwise," the medic warned before Jango heard them walk away.

Jango took a moment to breathe, to calm himself. Then he opened his eyes and carefully assessed the medical room. It looked like one of the medical facilities on a Star Destroyer, the type the Republic used. The other beds, that he could see, were occupied by injured clones and Jedi alike.

There was a clone watching him but didn't feel familiar. Not one Jango interacted with yet, then. Jango was all too familiar with the blank but assessing stare he was receiving. This clone didn't know what to make of Jango yet and was doing his best to hide what opinions he had.

"I take it the Jedi won?" Jango asked carefully. He didn't want to appear like he was fishing for information, and he wasn't, but he didn't want to be left to his own thoughts out of suspicion. Not when memories he never wanted to relive were too close to the surface.

Maybe some of that showed on his face because the clone's expression twisted into wry sympathy. "Yes si- uh," the clone stumbled, clearly unsure how to address Jango anymore.

Jango snorted in amusement before he could stop himself but the pain was minimal. "Job's done, trooper. I don't have any authority over you or your brothers anymore. Call me Fett."

"Yes... Fett. The Jedi won. We found you in the arena with the rest of the Jedi. We didn't know you sided with the enemy," the clone said carefully, minding his words, but the accusation of being a traitor was there.

"Sided," Jango said, putting as much mockery as he could into the word. "I 'sided' with no one. I was there and I fought the Jedi because I was hired to do so. Same as I was hired to create and train all of you. I'm not a trooper like you and your brothers. My loyalties only go to the person signing my check for the duration of a job or my people."

The clone grew quiet at that, thinking over and picking apart Jango's words like he so regularly did to others. The only difference between the two of them was Jango had more experience doing it quickly and with far more subtlety.

"Aren't we your people? I mean, we're your clones si- Fett," the clone asked and kriff, this one was young.

"No," Jango answered. It was painful but necessary. "You never were mine. Mandalorians don't put much stock in blood relations and I was raised that way. You're all just people who happen to share my blood and face."

"Except Boba, the son you 'could' claim," the clone said, like a tooka pouncing on a rat.

Jango smiled, feeling pride even though he had no right to it - this one definitely got his smarts. A little more experience and a little more training and this clone was going to be one of the best, Jango could tell.

"That's right. You got a name yet, trooper?" Jango asked, cautious. Names were sacred to the Vode and they seemed scared to share them with anyone other than another clone.

"My designation is CT-1010," 1010 said, choosing to pronounce it as 'ten-ten'. Ten-ten's guard was suddenly back up, trying to go back to blank assessment, but he was too wary for that.

"Hmm, you probably won't be CT for long Ten-ten. You're more than suitable for ARC but I think you should aim for CC," Jango said, equal parts of him pleased and guilty at how genuinely surprised and embarrassed Ten-ten was at his words.

"Not going to put in a good word for me?" Ten-ten teased before balking as he remembered who he was talking to.

Jango chuckled. "Yeah, I don't think the Jedi would accept my recommendation given they got me detained for... whatever the charges are."

Before Ten-ten could respond, there was a pounding of tiny feet racing loudly down the hall and, somehow, Boba managed to slam open an automatic door.

"Buir!" His son exclaimed as he carefully climbed onto the bed, slowing down only to assess Jango's injuries and to avoid jostling them. Jango couldn't move so Boba shifted to rest their foreheads together, taking a moment to be relieved the other was alive and they were together - at least for now. "I saw you fall, I thought you were dead."

"Ah, Boba. I'm sorry. If I could have spared you that I would've," Jango said, determined to ignore the healer and Jedi that had arrived more sedately into the room. He had lost his first family when he was Boba's age and hated the idea he almost did the same to his son. If Dooku hadn't ordered him into the fight, he would have been content to remain a spectator.

The healer watched the two of them before deciding to check on their other patients. The jedi, an Iridonian Zabrak, seemed content to wait for Jango's attention.

"Jango Fett, I'm Master Eeth Koth. As long as I am here to monitor this visit your bindings may be removed. They will have to be put back on afterwards," Koth offered.

Jango felt torn. He wanted the binders off, he wanted to be able to hold and comfort his son; but, getting them put back on, willingly letting himself be bound was going to be torture. It would be worth it, if only because Jango felt certain this was the last time he'd be able to hold his son in a long time, if ever again.

"Fine," Jango agreed and remained as still as he could as Koth undid the bindings. As soon as his hands were free he slowly wrapped them around Boba. Boba had moved his face so it was tucked in between Jango's shoulder and neck, small chest shuddering as he tried to suppress his crying. "Shh, Boba. _Calm down. It's alright. I'm alive._ "

They didn't have any privacy but at least speaking in Mando'a would give them at least the illusion of it. Ten-ten certainly understood even if he was kind enough to pretend ignorance.

" _It's not alright!_ " Boba protested. " _You didn't die but I'm still losing you._ "

" _I know. I'm sorry. You have a copy of all my documents. Stay with Mij. Don't agree to anything Skirata wants unless Mij clears it. Don't go back to Kamino. Keep a low profile, too many will want to hurt you just for being my son and I- I can't protect you anymore Boba. I'm sorry_ ," Jango said, closing his eyes to fight back his own tears and kissing Boba's head.

Along Boba's side, where Ten-ten couldn't see, Jango tapped his fingers. With the arm wrapped around his neck and hand hidden from view, Boba tapped back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could I have wrangled what I know of Mando'a into writing out Jango and Boba's conversation into the conlang? Yes. 
> 
> Did I feel like it? Nope.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [feelinkeeli](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/feelinkeeli) and [pretzel-log1c](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/pretzel-log1c) on tumblr.


End file.
